In July 1982 the Blues and Royals Mounted Squadron rode out from Hyde Park barracks – and what a magnificent sight those shiny black horses were. As they were approaching Hyde Park Corner an IRA nail bomb was detonated; it killed four soldiers and seven horses and left others with appalling injuries. At 19, Sefton was the oldest of the horses and the worst injured: his jugular vein was severed and a six-inch nail went through his bridle. But after 28 pieces of shrapnel were removed from his body, he made a slow but complete recovery and, miraculously, was back on parade the following November.

He became a national symbol of courage and stoicism. I went down to see him at Melton Mowbray when he was recovering. All the other horses were jumpy and nervy – biting and kicking people – but Sefton was completely calm and phlegmatic. I gave him lots of barley sugar and he was getting sack-loads of fan mail. He was absolutely gorgeous.

The following year, the "Animals in War" exhibition was staged at the Imperial War Museum, and Sefton went along as one of the stars. Barbara Woodhouse and Joanna Lumley were there: Sefton fell madly in love with Joanna, but totally ignored Barbara Woodhouse, who kept trying to boss him around. But, most blissfully of all, he insisted on sticking his cock out the whole time – so the hundreds of waiting photographers had great difficulty getting any pictures. Such style! He was a star, and nobody was going to tell him what to do. When he died – years later at 30 – the trooper who was looking after him was in floods of tears, like so many of us, and uttered the immortal line: "St Peter won't need to open the pearly gates, because old Sefton will fly over them."